Plain Wisdom by Cindy Woodsmall Read Free Book Online Page B

kerosene lamps. So we had warmth, food, and light. What more could a family need?
    Games! Fast-paced, easy ones, where the goal is laughter, not winning.
    During those times when the television was as dark as the night, we’d clear the kitchen table, set a lantern on it, and start a board game. Not having electricity caused everyone naturally to shift his or her normal routine.
    For me, what was most fun about those evenings was having my parents’ undivided attention. Parents are often so busy being parents that their children don’t get to see their true personalities—the one that shows up when Mom goes out with her girlfriends or when Dad and his co-workers eat lunch together at a restaurant.
    Game night, which only occurred when the electricity went out, helped shape my thoughts about my family. It gave me a glimpse into my mom’s carefree side and my dad’s sharp wit, which had us roaring with laughter. Temporarily being without electricity was an inconvenience to my parents, who had work to do. But it radiated a light inside my heart that has lasted a lifetime.
    The Old Order Amish live without electricity all the time.
    Do I want to live the way they do? With much respect to them, I say, “No, thank you.”
    Do the Amish want to live as we do? With much respect to Englischers, the Amish I know say, “No, thank you.”
    We’d each have to give up things we cherish. I’d have to alter much of the life I’ve always known, and while I was at it, I would likely be altering the lives of my family for future generations.
    But there are common denominators in the two traditions—like our determination to protect our families and keep them a priority. And our belief in the power of love, which doesn’t originate with any particular tradition—not Amish or Englischer—but comes from the love God has for us. “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him” (1 Corinthians 2:9).
From Miriam
    Physically, I was cleaning walls, windows, cupboards, and floors. Mentally, I was planning menus for the two meals to be held in our home the next day. The first meal would follow the church service in our home and feed everyone who attended. The Amish hold church services in people’shomes every other week, rotating the responsibility for hosting the service and the meal afterward. The second meal of the day was for close friends and extended family. The ladies all bring loaves of homemade bread and desserts to share, which is a big help. But the main course is the responsibility of the host family, which this week was me.
    Going over the list in my head, I felt confident that I had all I needed for lunch: bread, ham, cheese spread, peanut butter, pickles, red beets, pies, and coffee—enough to feed the whole congregation of approximately 110 people.
    Only our families and a few close friends would stay for the evening meal. I planned to serve meat loaf, mashed potatoes, peas, a salad, and noodles for that one. Dessert would be cakes, pies, pudding, and fresh fruit for the health conscious, but I’d forgotten to buy fruit. Several of the folks couldn’t eat much of anything except fruit, so I started to panic. Going to town was out of the question, as I’d already gone twice that week. A third trip would require arranging for a driver, which was somewhat costly, assuming I could find one on such short notice. The only store close enough to reach by horse and buggy had already closed for the day.
    Scolding myself for being so scatterbrained, I breathed a quick prayer.
Lord, tomorrow is Your day, and this is Your church
. Knowing I couldn’t do anything about the problem, I focused on moving furniture out and benches in as we set up for church.
    About an hour later I heard a car in the driveway. Pulling back the curtain to see who it was, I gasped in disbelief. An English friend was coming up the walk, carrying a huge fruit basket! I